


One Last Illusion

by RedJuliet



Series: Klangst Week 2017 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Injury/Death, KLangst Week 2017 - Freeform, Keith gets tortured, Klangst Week 2017, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, There are needles and mentions of blood, Torture, also psychological torture, see the warning about character death, some fluff in the middle of this pain sandwich, visions of dark!paladins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 15:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10516611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedJuliet/pseuds/RedJuliet
Summary: Keith has been captured and Lance is desperate to bring him back home. But Keith isn't exactly the same as he was before and Lance doesn't know if he can fix things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> More Klangst Week! Day 3: Hurt/Comfort Day 4: Death/Injury >>WARNINGS<< Torture, needles, knives, depictions of violence, major character death.

The rescue came too late. Lance was the first one to demand they go back and rescue Keith. He knew they needed a plan, but he also knew each day that ticked by was another Keith was trapped in the Galra’s hands. Shiro and Allura couldn’t agree on a single course of action, and eventually Lance just snapped. He had never yelled at Shiro or Allura before, and he knew he had overstepped his bounds. But he could worry about that later, after they had Keith back.

Lance jumped out of his lion as soon as he infiltrated the ship. He had been adamant he was going in, so the decoy work was left up to Hunk and Shiro. Pidge served as his relay for directions through the Galra prisoner ship. He had his Bayard out and ready, but Hunk and Shiro were doing an excellent job with distraction duty and it kept most of the Sentries off of his ass.

When he finally found the prisoner block, Lance almost didn’t recognize Keith. There, in the very back corner of a dark cell was a small shape curled in on itself. The light that came in from the hallway faintly illuminated the figure. His arms were drawn around his legs, and some strange black helmet covered his head and concealed his eyes and ears from view.

Lance took a tentative step forward and closer to the figure. He saw wisps of dark hair tangled beneath the helmet, a split lip, and dark bruises mottled across a pale face. His body shook as he rocked back and forth against the floor.

“Keith…?” Lance lowered his weapon and took another step inside the dark cell. He dropped down to his knees in front of Keith and reached out. His fingers gingerly brushed Keith’s shoulders, but the touch was enough to make Keith recoil and throw himself backwards against the wall. Lance tensed, a slow and steady confusion settled over him. 

“Keith, it’s me. Lance. We’re here to bring you back to the ship,” Lance shuffled forward on his knees, his hand outstretched again. And that’s when he realized Keith couldn’t hear him with that strange device on his head. So Lance carefully removed it.

The thing was heavy and there was a strange hum being emitted from the interior speakers. The sound of it set him on edge for some reason that he couldn’t explain. And then he turned to look at Keith.

He had never seen legitimate terror in Keith’s eyes before. He gripped the helmet in his hands as confusion and concern battled for control in his mind. It wasn’t right, to see someone so naturally self-assured and strong to look so frightened. Keith was petrified as he looked at Lance, trails of tears on his cheeks. Keith ducked his head as Lance moved his hand as if he expected to be hurt, and Lance broke.

“K-Keith,” Lance felt a wave of nauseating dread crash over him. Even in the near blackness of the cell, he could see the bruises and old cuts on Keith’s face. He knew underneath the prison garb they had forced him into there were deeper wounds. Those could be healed, but Lance worried about the wounds he couldn’t see with his eyes, the ones that caused Keith to recoil from him like a frightened animal.

“The illusions are getting better,” Keith’s voice wavered. “I…almost can’t tell the difference,” It cracked and faded to a whisper, and Lance wondered how long it had been since Keith had sustenance of any kind.

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m not an illusion, it’s me Keith! It’s Lance. We’re here, I’m taking you home.”

The floor underneath Lance’s knees was cold even through the paladin suit. The whole room was cold, now that he realized it. How long had Keith been subjected to this room, this isolation? His eyes fell on the strange black helmet in his hands that still emitted a strange noise. It looked like it was designed to cover the eyes and ears, but apart from cutting off the senses what else did it do?

Lance realized Pidge was shouting something into his comm. He flipped his mic on and answered them.

“Pidge, I’m here. I’ve got Keith. He—he’s in bad shape. I need to take him back to the ship. I don’t know where his Bayard is, I—”

“Bring him back to the healing pods, Lance. I’ll infiltrate the ship and find his Bayard,” Shiro’s voice cut through the comms before Pidge had a chance to respond. Lance was relieved he didn’t ask any questions.

“Wait, does that mean I’m going to be handling these guys on my own out here?” Hunk sounded mildly panicked. 

“I can find my own way out,” Lance chewed his lip as he looked over at the doorway. They would have to move quick. “Pidge can help you out there.”

Pidge hesitated before their comm came through again. “If you’re sure, Lance. I’ll be out there with my lion in two dobashes.”

“Okay, Lance? Make your way back to the ship with Keith. Hunk, draw all of their fire away from the point of entry. Take out the canons on the main ship. Pidge, head out and cover Hunk while he works on those canons. I’ll make my way inside and find Keith’s Bayard.”

Shiro’s instructions were met with a collective assent from all the paladins. Lance turned his mic off and turned back to Keith. His eyes had hardened, his shoulders squared off in an offensive position Lance hadn’t expected.

“You can’t trick me anymore. I know what to expect—” Keith balled his fists and glared at Lance with an unmatched fury. It was unlike anything Lance had ever seen Keith wear before, not even when they had gotten into their most heated arguments.

Did he think this was some sort of illusion? Lance felt his stomach twist as he stepped forward and Keith stepped back. Maybe the druids had done something to him—maybe that helmet had messed with his mind.

“Keith,” Lance breathed. He spread his arms out and made himself seem as unthreatening as possible. “I’m not going to hurt you. You have to trust me, I’m—” but before he could finish his sentence, Keith had lunged at him. Lance found himself thrown backwards onto the ground. His gun scattered across the cold metal floor as Keith pinned him from above.

The fury, the anger, the _hurt_ flitted across Keith’s expression all at once. Lance’s words caught in his throat as he stared up, speechless and a little frightened. But Keith’s expression soon shifted. He looked confused as his hands moved to press against Lance’s shoulders and chest, fingers slow and uncertain.

“You’re…real…” Keith was inches away from him now and Lance could make out each and every mark and bruise along his face and neck. He could see the dark circles underneath his eyes, the stains against his dark clothing across his chest and stomach. The faint metallic tang was strong now.

“Y-yeah,” Lance sucked in a breath, “I’m real, I’m right here. You’re okay—you’re going to be okay. I’m going to bring you home, but we have to move right now, alright?” Lance moved his hands slowly and wrapped them around Keith’s own. Keith looked startled, the sensation jarring enough to bring him back to reality.

Keith nodded and pushed himself off of Lance. He looked slightly guilty, relieved, but mostly just tired. Lance quickly picked up his weapon and held a hand out for Keith.

“Can you run?” Keith took Lance’s hand and pulled himself up. His legs shook as he tested his weight and he shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” Keith took an uncertain step forward, but it looked like it took all of his energy just to stand up.

“Okay, no prob. I’m going to carry you,” Lance tried for a smirk but it fell flat. Seeing Keith like this unnerved him, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap the other paladin in a tight hug, to run his fingers through his hair and whisper soft words of encouragement until the shaking stopped. Until Keith didn’t look so damn frightened anymore.

Lance knew that might just freak him out more. But he didn’t wait for any words of protest as he let his Bayard shift back into its default form and picked Keith up in his arms bridal style. He wasn’t prepared for Keith’s breath to hitch and a pained whimper to escape his lips despite his clenched teeth.

Lance cursed, “Sorry! I—it’s the best I can do until we get back. Are you going to be okay?” Lance looked down. Keith nodded once, tersely, and Lance took that as his cue to move. The run was difficult and awkward. It was a strain to carry someone in the first place, but running with someone in your arms was even harder.

Keith tucked his head against Lance’s shoulder, his breathing ragged and unnatural. Lance whispered quietly to him and muttered the same words over and over like a mantra. He wasn’t sure if it was to reassure Keith or himself.

* * *

Keith tested his restraints. He pulled his arms and kicked his legs but the strange purple material held fast. He wasn’t sure if it was more like leather or metal, but either way he couldn’t free his limbs from the table they had strapped him onto.

He twisted his head and glared at the Galra that stood over him, studied him like some kind of lab specimen. Which, Keith supposed he was now.

They started with simple tests. They drew blood, vials of it collected on a small metal table. One of them held his head back as another cut a chunk of hair. Keith shouted, his wrists twisted as he thrashed and threatened them, but he was in no position to threaten anyone—a fact of which the druids were acutely aware.

They hooked him up to strange machines and screens lit up with numbers and lines of text that Keith couldn’t read. His arms were littered with needle marks, the skin mottled dark blue and green around each tiny hole. He recognized one substance as refined quintessence… just enough to keep him awake and alive as long as they needed.

When they tested his threshold for pain they started with the knives. The edges were rough, uneven and too blunt. The blood welled up each time they ripped at his skin. Keith tried to bite back his voice, and he had managed for a time until the druid brought his hand to Keith’s forehead and unleashed the most excruciating agony Keith had ever suffered. Each nerve in his body was on fire, the heat a slow poison that spread along his limbs, up his chest, into his heart. He felt the jagged cut of the blade not only from where it touched his skin, but throughout his entire body.

He didn’t think it could get any worse. But when they placed the helmet on his head he realized he couldn’t have been more wrong. He was surrounded in darkness, his eyes covered and his ears blocked. At first he heard nothing, and then there was a faint sound, a low hum. He couldn’t hear anything else, not even the sounds of the others in the room. The hum had only been a minor annoyance at first, but over time it made him feel unsettled and nauseous.

When the pain came again, he jolted. The loss of his senses somehow made it worse. He wasn’t even sure if he was screaming, he couldn’t hear anything except for that _sound_.

The illusions came after that. He didn’t register them as illusions at first because they looked so real. When he felt the pain from then on out, it was always at the hands of one of his friends.

Shiro held the blade, his expression neutral as he worked. His tone was as casual and conversational as if they were talking about the weather. That was, until he mentioned Keith’s Galra blood. His features twisted in a way that mirrored Allura’s early expressions, filled with resentment and disdain.

The illusions would switch off. Each one hurt in a different way, even if he knew they were just projections—nightmares from his own mind being used against him.

When they used Lance though—Fuck when they used Lance it left him reeling. Because the illusion would lean over and Keith could see just how impossibly blue his eyes were. His hands moved and cupped Keith’s face, his lips a hair’s breadth from Keith’s own, eyes lidded underneath a fringe of lashes.

When it spoke in Lance’s voice, his tone was hard and edged with a revulsion Keith had never heard from him before.

_You deserve this, Keith._

The excruciating agony spread from the tips of Lance’s fingertips, and the magic surged through Keith’s body. The last thing he saw before he clenched his eyes shut was the deep blue of Lance’s eyes.

When Keith’s eyes snapped open he didn’t immediately know where he was. His eyes adjusted slowly to the blue light, his body strangely weightless. The pain was gone, but he felt tired in a way he had never truly felt before. When the strange blue glass lifted from his line of sight he staggered forward.

“Keith!”

Someone’s arms were wrapped around him. They held him up which was great, because Keith wasn’t sure he could stand on his own. When he blinked and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light, he realized he wasn’t in the Galra ship anymore. His heart beat almost painfully against his chest as adrenaline coursed through him.

Keith turned his head to see who had caught him and immediately threw himself backward and out of Lance’s grip. He landed hard on the floor, his breath caught in his throat. The memory too clear—too sharp in his mind. And yet, Lance didn’t look at him with eyes filled with disgust or anger, but with concern.

Lance tensed, his arm instinctively moved to reach out but he held it back when he saw Keith’s reaction. The sudden and drastic shift between the two Lances left him reeling.

“Just…just an illusion,” Keith muttered to himself. He said the words to himself over and over and over, until he heard Lance move closer. Just a single step at a time, until he kneeled down beside him.

“I-I’m not an illusion. Keith, I’m going to reach out. You can touch my hand. I’m real.” Lance waited until Keith turned to look at him before he slowly extended his arm. He was still a good two feet away but Keith couldn’t help but flinch.

Lance held his hand outstretched, and damn Keith knew he was real. He knew this was real he—he was pretty sure this was real. But he kept second guessing himself as memories replayed themselves in his mind.

Keith raised his own hand, unrestrained but still strangely heavy, and reached out until their fingertips touched. He swallowed hard and pressed their hands more firmly together. Lance didn’t move his hand, but a slow smile stretched across his face.

“See? I’m totally real,” Lance took a deep breath and when he met Keith’s eyes Keith realized the illusion had nothing on the real blue of Lance’s eyes. “I’m going to reach out and touch your face, is that okay? You can tell me to stop if you feel uncomfortable.”

_Ke…ith…_

Keith furrowed his brows. He thought he heard Lance say his name again for some reason but he brushed it off. He nodded. It was a strange request; Lance had never touched his face before. But when he felt the soft brush of fingertips against the skin of his cheek he shivered. Lance froze.

“No, keep going,” Keith almost blushed at how stupid that sounded but Lance’s touch was soothing. He traced the lines of Keith’s jaw, cupped the back of his neck and brushed the pad of his thumb across Keith’s cheek. It wasn’t romantic exactly, but Keith had never felt a touch so careful, so gentle.

“See?” Lance smiled, his voice softer than Keith expected. “It’s real.”

“It’s just,” Keith’s voice was rough. “The illusions were so…” A twinge of panic swept over him and he started to shake, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to force the words out.

“It’s okay,” Lance said quickly, “You don’t have to tell me right now. Later, if you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen, alright?”

Keith nodded. The healing pod hadn’t given him his strength back, and he really just wanted to collapse. And yet, he didn’t want those dreams to come back. He looked up at Lance, surprised to find the simple feeling of his hand against Keith’s neck grounded him to reality. If this was an illusion, it was the cruelest one of all.

_…eith…pl…_

There was that weird voice again. He was so tired he was probably hearing things. His eyes slipped to Lance’s lap and he hesitated. He was too tired to get up, but this wasn’t comfortable exactly.

“Can you do that… that thing you do with Hunk and Pidge?” At first Lance looked confused, so Keith tried to elaborate. “Sometimes in the common room you, uh,” Keith trailed off. He knew his face was red now and he ducked his head to try and hide it.

“Oh!” Lance laughed. “You mean our cuddle pile? Yeah!” Keith managed to glance over at Lance, but his expression was soft and free of any sort of mockery. “So, I’m going to reach out and pull you back into my lap, okay?”

Keith was still probably as red as his lion, but he nodded. Lance’s arms were firm but gentle as they settled Keith against him. Lance was warm, or maybe Keith was just cold. It was colder than he remembered in here. But it was comfortable to lie against Lance, head settled against his lap.

“Keith?” Lance broke the comfortable silence. Keith simply murmured in reply. “Can I touch your hair?”

The question was so out of character Keith had to laugh. Lance tensed and he immediately regretted it.

“Um, yeah I guess. Sure. You hate my hair?” He managed to look over his shoulder and caught the slightest bit of color on Lance’s dark cheeks.

“W-well, yeah, of course. It’s just…” Lance started to ramble. Keith decided to cut him off.

“I dunno, it might feel nice,” Keith shrugged. Lance brightened and gently moved one hand to comb through Keith’s hair. Some part of Keith thought Lance was a liar because for someone that hated his hair, he sure seemed to like the feel of it. But he was too tired to tease the other paladin. Besides, Lance’s fingers felt really good as they moved through his hair.

_…ne…ed…ou…wa..k… ___

____

__

The voice was quieter now. Keith hoped he wasn’t imagining voices now because he really didn’t want to have to explain that to Lance.

“Dude,” Lance paused for a second and Keith almost protested. “Your hair is uneven back here.” Lance’s fingers swept over the spot Keith was sure they had hacked. “You’ve gotta let me fix it. Actually, you have a lot of split ends… you should try this hair cream I found in the castle. It adds volume and shine and—”

Keith groaned. “You’re not cutting my hair, Lance.”

“Trust me! I used to cut my family’s hair all the time. I even did Pidge’s a while back, when it was getting too long. You should see how much bounce and volume it has now.”

Keith let Lance ramble on for a few minutes before he raised a hand up and clasped it firmly over Lance’s mouth. The movement sort of backfired, because Keith realized Lance’s lips were really soft. But he tried not to let that show on his face.

“Fine, I’ll let you fix my hair. But don’t get any ideas. I’m not getting an undercut like Shiro.”

_…do…le…v…e…_

Lance smirked. Keith could feel it under his hand. And then he felt something warm and wet against his palm and he drew his hand back as if he had been burned.

“Dude! Did you just lick me?” Keith shouted.

_Lo…v………ou…_

Lance burst out into laughter, his body shook slightly from where Keith still laid against him. Keith grumbled and wiped his palm on his leg more for show than anything. He really wished he had a blanket though, because even against Lance he was freezing.

“I won’t, I won’t. Trust me, Keith,” Lance placed a hand against his chest. “You will come out looking hotter than ever before. I am a hair genius.”

Keith froze, his hand still on the leg of his healing suit as he blinked. “You think I’m hot?”

It was Lance’s turn to freeze. His hand was still on his chest, but his eyes widened and Keith could see the cogs turn in his head as he tried to think of a way to cover his mistake. Keith smirked and waited.

“What? No way, I didn’t say that I meant it like… um, y-you’re hotter than ever because you’re the paladin of fire! Get it?”

Keith laughed. He couldn’t help it. The sound bubbled up inside his chest and came out in full force. Lance looked mildly confused and a little offended.

“That was horrible,” Keith tried to stifle the laughter, and Lance bristled.

“Okay, well I’d like to see you do better!” Lance pulled his hand away from Keith’s hair and Keith lamented the loss of contact. He almost regretted pushing Lance’s buttons.

Lance looked…off somehow. But the room was dark, and Keith was dead tired. His mind was probably just messing with him.

He felt lighter, the thoughts of the earlier memory of the illusions almost gone. Somehow Lance had managed to distract him enough to ease him back into some semblance of normal.

“You can, um, keep doing…” Keith trailed off. He missed the feeling of Lance’s hands in his hair. He just missed the feeling of his touch.

Lance looked surprised but he didn’t waste any time before he lowered his hand and began to thread his fingers through Keith’s hair again. He couldn’t feel it as acutely as before though, and he tried not to feel disappointed.

They fell into an easy silence again, and Keith closed his eyes. The fatigue was almost overwhelming now. He knew if he fell asleep here, Lance would wake him if the nightmares returned. It was a comforting thought and he almost dozed off when he heard the soft sound of singing.

It took his exhausted mind a few seconds to register that Lance was singing quietly, his voice soft in the nearly empty room. Keith tried to focus on the words, but he realized they were in Spanish. Something warm settled in his chest, a soft smile on his face. He had never heard Lance sing in Spanish before. Even if some of the notes were a little off key and he hummed certain parts he couldn’t remember, Keith thought it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. 

* * *

Lance stared at the empty healing pod, his expression blank. If he had only been quicker, if only they had gone after Keith sooner…he might still be alive.

Lance had brought Keith back to Blue, but it wasn’t long before he realized his condition was worse than originally thought. Lance set his lion to autopilot and placed a hand on Keith’s chest. He could feel the fabric there caked in blood, his hand came away wet. Keith had passed out shortly before he made it onto his lion, despite Lance’s best attempts to wake him. Lance took his hand in his own. It was frighteningly cold.

Keith was barely breathing. Lance saw his eyelids flutter, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. Lance brought a hand to his face and gently cupped the back of his neck. Keith was dreaming or having a nightmare, and Lance couldn’t wake him up. He pleaded with his lion to go faster. He cried out Keith’s name over and over as his eyes burned with unwanted tears. If he cried he was accepting it was too late.

Lance brought him to rest in his lap, one hand moved to card through his hair. Blue was flying as fast as she could go, but Lance knew it wasn’t enough. Keith was freezing, his body was too cold to be normal.

“Keith, please. I need you to wake up,” Lance’s voice was quiet. He could feel Blue push against him in concern.

“I need you to wake up. I have so many things to tell you. You’re amazing and you probably don't even realize it. You can’t leave the team now, we need you. I—I need you.” Lance reached out with his other hand and placed a kiss on the palm of Keith’s hand, slow and soft. Keith’s hand was cold. Lance felt his tears stain the other paladin’s skin.

“Don’t leave me, Keith. I-I love you, you know? No, you probably don’t know and now I’ll never get to…to tell you.” Lance’s body shook as the sobs escaped his chest. Distantly, he felt Blue’s quintessence push against his own.

Lance closed his eyes and let the tears fall freely down his face as he started to sing. It was a song he would sing for his siblings when they were hurt or distressed, and he couldn’t remember all of it but he tried his best even if his voice shook.

Keith was heavy and motionless in his arms and Lance knew. His voice cracked and he wavered on the last notes until he finished and allowed the deafening silence to consume him.

**Author's Note:**

> You can yell at me on tumblr: http://tsun-tsun-ricchan.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> I think I'm pretty much done with Klangst Week though, I'm so far behind and my attempt at Secrets/Betrayal is just decent. More Voltron events coming up though, so keep your eyes peeled!


End file.
